


You Smiled (Oh And Then the Spell Was Cast)

by ohcosima



Category: Orange is the New Black
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues (referenced), Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism (mentioned), Post Season 03, suicide attempt (referenced)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 15:25:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4441154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohcosima/pseuds/ohcosima
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She still carries the psychological scars of the bullying and her own ugly thoughts about herself, and some physical ones from the times she couldn’t bear herself just as much as everybody else seemed to.</p><p>If there is a good thing she found in that shit-hole that was Litchfield, though, it is Poussey Washington."</p><p>From a prompt by moosesammich on tumblr: "Could you give me cute fluffy pousoso where they have been released and are figuring out how they work in each other's lives outside of prison? You can take this any way you would like. :3"</p><p>Featuring: sad flashbacks, Poussey & Brook moving in together, a lot of cutesy shit from the both of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Smiled (Oh And Then the Spell Was Cast)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! So, I like these two so much and I waited so long to write them because I was afraid of screwing up their characters (especially Poussey). But now that someone asked me for them, I gathered my courage, so here. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Feedback, advice and kudos are always very appreciated!
> 
> P.s. The title is from Etta James' At Last!

It’s early in the morning when Brook wakes up. It’s actually too early, she realizes when she turns to look at her digital clock indicating it’s half past six a.m. The room is filled with sunlight, which means Poussey must already be up. She stretches contentedly, scenes from the night before playing in her head like she is seeing them from an outer perspective.

The apartment is still a mess, even though they don’t have many things. The beauty of moving apartments, she guesses.

~

Yesterday night Poussey had come back from work with a couple of new books and a bottle of red wine, and they had dinner using the largest box they could find as a table. They sat on the ground and shared pizza and fries, while Poussey told her about the people who frequented the bookstore she worked at.

“There was this little girl with a pile of books this high, I thought she was gonna faint or something, so I go up to her to help her and she just says like, ‘I got this, don’t worry’. I’m telling you, it hurt to watch. So I took some anyway and that’s how we were both gonna knock over some other dude with a really weird mustache. We’re about to kill him, for real.” She shoves some fries in her mouth, laughing good-heartedly.

Brook listened to her with the hugest grin on her face, imagining Poussey struggling to carry a giant pile of books. “How was your day?” Poussey asked with an interested expression.

Brook smiled shyly, still not used to her girlfriend’s genuine displays of care even after months have passed since they have made their relationship official. “I’ve been at Berdie’s today.” She was barely able to contain the excitement in her voice, as she was about to tell her something possibly life-changing.

“You have? What did she tell you?” Poussey replied, a wide grin spreading on her face.

~

Since Brook has recovered from the problems that had matured in prison, she's still been paying visits to Berdie Rogers. She has been essential to her recovery process, which had been full of obstacles both from the inside and the outside. She still carries the psychological scars of the bullying and her own ugly thoughts about herself, and some physical ones from the times she couldn’t bear herself just as much as everybody else seemed to.

If there is a good thing she found in that shit-hole that was Litchfield, though, it is Poussey Washington. They had found each other out of necessity, at first. It wasn’t convenience, Poussey always stood up for her when she couldn’t, she did it for everyone. She was, and still is, a kind soul, and Brook was broken. Brook figured that her presence helped the girl feel less alone.

After she fell down completely, Poussey stayed. She lingered in the background at first, approaching her only when she saw Brook needed it. They mostly just held each other, just like that time Poussey held her hand in the lake. Tender, spontaneous, comforting. In a word, right. Then Poussey just kept coming to her and Brook liked it; she didn’t complain if she ranted about silly things, she participated in conversations and made a lot of jokes. She thought about her jokes before falling asleep.  
  
Once Poussey kissed her forehead, and it made Brook cry. Poussey had already told Brook her story, how she was about to kill a man once, but she didn’t go through it. Brook can’t picture Poussey willingly hurt anyone, and hearing her saying she came to that point made her shiver. She told her about her parents, about some ex-girlfriends, about Taystee. When Poussey talked about Taystee, her eyes sparkled like she was talking about a wonder of nature. She didn’t ask, but she could see by herself that she had feelings for her best friend.

She felt something sink in her chest at the realization, but she didn’t pay attention to it at the time. So when she just caressed her forehead and placed the gentlest of kisses on top of it, Brook let out a single tear, silent and seemingly unnoticed. She understood by then, that Poussey would never talk about her like she did about Taystee, about what was it like when she was there and how she still called sometimes, and it consumed her, but she still took what she could get.

She sometimes listened to her rant about love and cutesy stuff she wanted to do, and Brook nodded with a tight smile. Poussey got confused when she saw her shift uncomfortably when they talked about love, but Brook told her it was because she couldn’t think about love right in that moment. But she could and she did. She started thinking all the cliché stuff people with dumb crushes think.

‘Poussey would like this’.  
  
‘Poussey would make a joke’.  
  
‘Poussey would tell me I’m too awesome for them’.

It all changed when Brook found Poussey drunk in the morning. She knew she drank, but she had never catched her in that state that early in the morning. She moped in a corner by herself, and Brook didn’t know if approaching her was wise or recommended, but she did anyway.

Poussey seemed nauseated by her presence, and it made Brook sick to look at her.

“Is everything ok?” she asked, fully knowing it was an unnecessary question.

Poussey stared at her with a bitter expression, not attempting an answer.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” Brook felt she needed to make it clear, even after all they shared.

Poussey simply snorted and looked away. Brook didn’t know what to do, the urge to earn a positive reaction just making her anxious.

She ran, cursing at herself for being such a weak coward and a useless friend. Poussey came back to her the day after, sober, and with the most worried expression. Brook was sitting in the TV room by herself, like she did most of the time when Poussey wasn’t around and she hadn’t got work to do.

“Soso,” she just called her name and stared at her. Brook stared back. She slowly grew a small smile and nodded at Poussey, hoping to dissipate the tension. But then Poussey spoke again, “I need to talk to you. Can you…?”

“Yup,” she hopped from her seat and followed her in the library, where the two of them sat on the ground.

Poussey was weirdly silent, so Brook decided to break the ice for here. “So, have you already decided what you’re gonna do when you get out of here?” Ignoring the past day events seemed the best option to her. “I was thinking of picking up college, you know? I dropped out my first year to follow this group of—”

“Shut up,” Poussey almost whispered, gaze fixated on the floor.

Brook did, not sure if this was Poussey finally realizing she had had enough of her senseless ramblings. “Sorry, I got—”

“I said shut up. Please.”

Brook nodded, suddenly very aware of her serious demeanor. She didn’t manage to stay silent for too long, her need for elaboration having the best of her. “Sorry I—Is there’s something you want to tell me? Is this about yesterday? Because I don’t care, we can pretend—”

“No.” Poussey stated firmly, “I mean, yes. But we can’t pretend it didn’t happen.”

Brook nodded, waiting for her to go on. When nothing came, she spoke again. “Then tell me what happened. I can tell something’s wrong. I mean, it’s obvious and now you are confirming it. Is this about…”

She didn’t want to end that sentence…

“About what?”

“I mean… is this about Taystee?”

“What about her?” she frowned.

“You like her, right?” she said a little awkwardly, “And she doesn’t like you back?”

Poussey was looking at her with a deep frown, “So?”

“I don’t know, you… I don’t know.”

“You think I’m still crying about her?”

Brook felt a little offended by the tone she used, like she thought Brook missed something extremely obvious. “Are you not?”

“Of course I’m not, I’m not that dense!”

“Again, are you not?” she let it slip and regretted it immediately.

Poussey shifted to look at her directly, “What the fuck, Soso?”

She shook her head, “Sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

“I was trying to tell you something, if only you let me fucking talk.” Poussey said a little angrily. Brook didn’t answer, remaining silent once and for all.

“Okay, so. You know I’m getting out in a couple of months.”

“Three and a half.” Brook whispered. She still had a year.

“Whatever. So, I’m getting out. You know what that means.”

“I don’t.”

“And I’m the fricking dense one. We’re not gonna see each other as we do now.”

“I know.” Brook was preparing for a punch in the stomach.

“So you gotta promise me some things.”

“Okay.”

“First of all. You gotta put me in you visitors list.”

“Of course.” Poussey was in her personal space now, Brook tingled all over, their foreheads and their hands almost touched, but she still didn’t look at her in the eyes.

“Then you’re gonna go to Berdie every time you feel like shit’s too heavy. Ok?”

“Of course.”

“I’m gonna go to my aunt, she has a place where I can stay for a bit and she says she will help me find a job. I will call you too, if I get the chance.” Brook nodded, not trusting her voice.

Silence filled the air, but suddenly Poussey spoke again. “I’m gonna miss you.”

Brook smiled, “I’m gonna miss you too.” So much, she didn't add, that she felt like she couldn't breathe at the thought.

Poussey kept looking at her with such warmth it made her feel like crying, but if she did she’d have to explain why, and she really didn’t want to. “You’re gonna have to buy me clothes for when I get out, too,” she talked just to fill the silence, saying things she knew that sounded naïve and too hopeful. “I like big sweaters, you won’t have to worry about the size, just pick—”

Suddenly she was cut off in a way she wouldn’t have ever imagined. Poussey had grabbed her face, turning Brook to the side so she could press a kiss to her lips. Brook froze, stunned. It ended as quickly as it began, but her lips tingled for a long time after. She could feel her cheeks heat up, and Poussey must have noticed, by the way she was smiling at her. A million thoughts raced through her mind, and she was completely speechless for what felt like forever.

“I will if you shut up.”

~

Yesterday night Brook told Poussey how Berdie was going to help her with her college courses, and that she wanted to counsel in prison too. Poussey had poured her another glass of wine and peppered her face with kisses. They proceeded to clear the table, dancing to some song on the radio until they decided to go to bed and just spend the night wrapped up in each other’s arms, drifting contentedly to sleep.

~

Brook has already had breakfast, and she’s waiting for Poussey to come back from her morning run, still in her pajamas. She’s just eager to see her and start unpacking all of their things.

While she showers she hears the click of the door being closed and she smiles to herself.

“Brook, I’m here!” she hears Poussey announce herself and she finishes washing off the shampoo from her hair and hops out the shower.

“Oh, hey,” Poussey approaches her to kiss her cheek, “I was already starting here, hurry up and help me.”

Brook hums, “Give me a second,” she goes in their bedroom to find something comfortable to wear. She already hears Poussey’s current musical obsession playing from the living room.

“We’re not gonna make it today, B.” She hears her yell, “There are like three hundred boxes.”

She quickly puts on one of the over-sized sweaters Poussey actually bought her when she got out. It reads ‘cute as a button’ and it has a lot of tiny buttons on it. And it really is cute; it's something Poussey would not wear in a million years, but in the period of time Brook was still in prison, Poussey would go out and occasionally buy stuff that reminded her of the girl.

~

The first time Brook told Poussey she loved her was the last time she saw her in prison clothes. They were finally letting her out. She was waiting for the guards near her bed, so Brook decided it was now or probably never.

“Poussey!” she called, making the other girl turn. She smiled, but it seemed different from her usual smiles. It was sad, and Brook knew it was only normal to feel sad when you’re abandoning a place that has been your home for years, leaving behind important people in her life. But it had a hint of… resignation? Bitterness? Brook couldn’t tell exactly. “It’s time, then,”

She nodded, “I’m gonna get out, man,” rocking on her heels, she attempted cheerfulness, but she didn’t sound entirely convinced. “I already told you I’ll miss you, yeah?”

“Yes, you did.” Brook answered sweetly.

“Okay,” Poussey nodded. She obviously felt awkward, but Brook strangely didn’t. “Are you ready?”

Poussey looked like she wanted to say something, but decided against it. Instead she shook her head and looked down, making Brook frown in confusion. But instead of asking why, she just sighed. Deep down, she knew. So she just stepped forward, hugged her, and whispered “I love you,” only for her to hear.

Poussey pulled her tighter that she had ever had, and Brook was glad she couldn’t see her face. She also didn't need to hear it back, because Brook knew how she was a lot more scared than she was.

They pulled apart without looking at each other when the guard called for Poussey.

~

It’s late in the evening when they silently agree that they have done enough.

“ _Hurry up_ , she said. _We’re not gonna make it if you don’t move your lazy ass_ , she said.” Brook playfully mocks her. They are lying on the floor, facing each other. Their arms are sore, the house is far from orderly and they have been talking about random things for twenty minutes now.

“Whatever,” Poussey laughs, closing her eyes.

“I want a piercing, P,” Brook says, shifting to lay closer to her.

“Is that so?” she smirks.

“Yes, it’s cute. Plus Berdie once said that doing little things for myself is good, every now and then.”

“I’m gonna have to buy that women a bottle of champagne or something,” Poussey feigns exasperation, but quickly smiles again.

Brook grins, “Will you come with me?”

Poussey delicately grabs her hand and plays with her fingers. Then she guides her arm around her waist, “Sure. Where are you gonna get it?”

“I was thinking nose.”

“I think it’ll be cute too,” she murmurs, and she bumps their noses together, nuzzling so close they can barely breathe. After a while Brook can see her struggling to keep her eyes open so she say, “Let’s move to the bed.” She gets up, grabbing Poussey by her hand and pulling her all the way to the bedroom.

As her girlfriend quietly sleeps, Brook thinks that where she is now is where she wants to be forever. She knows she can do whatever she sets her mind to, now, and that she’s going to have someone who will support her and care for her, even when it gets ugly. She knows because she already has had proof.

Years later, when she’s about to walk down the aisle, she still knows it.

**Author's Note:**

> Talk to me at izzy-lightwccd.tumblr.com


End file.
